I Know What You Need
by MischiefsPrincess
Summary: Dean needs something, he doesn't know what. Maybe his dominatrix friend does. *Warning- Mommy kink. Don't like, don't read.*
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One,

Dean met Ryan during a case, one of her customers had died. Ryan was a dominatrix. Dean was definitely interested in her line of work. They became friends. At first, Dean never thought of using her services, he was a top, he didn't want a dom. But on bad days, when he was stressed, he considered it. Some days the idea of having someone else in control sounded relaxing.

Dean went to her house after hours one day. Ryan was still in a leather bustier.

"Wow, that must really get your clients going," Dean said. She chuckled and grabbed her robe.

"Yeah, some of them." She told him.

"So what do you do exactly? Whip them while they get themselves off?" Dean asked.

"If that's what they want. Some clients like to be hurt, some like to be told what to do, and some like to be taken care of." She said. "So why are you here Dean? Surely you didn't come over just to talk shop." She wondered as she sat down next to him.

"I think I want to try it, but I think it might be weird to do it with you since we're friends." He said.

"Dean, domination doesn't have to be sexual. How about a session tomorrow to figure out what you like?" She asked.

"That sounds nice Ryan, but I don't think I can afford your prices." Dean sighed.

"Free of charge, but don't tell anyone." She said. Dean smiled and nodded.

"Thanks."

Dean went back to the bunker, mind reeling about his session with Ryan. What was he going to wear? What was she going to do? What was he going to let her do?

Ryan was thinking similar thoughts, Dean wasn't just another client, he was a friend. She looked through her closet and found a silky green nightie and sheer robe that would match Dean's eyes perfectly. It was soft and she knew he'd like it. She also had some perfume that smelled like apple pie. She was going to make Dean happy and relaxed.

The next day Dean got ready for his session. He put on a pair of jeans and his maroon button-down shirt. He sprayed on a little cologne.

"Where are you headed?" Sam asked.

"I'm going to see Ryan." He told him.

"Ryan? As in the dominatrix?" Sam questioned.

"It's not like that." Dean huffed.

"Sure it's not, wear a condom." Sam snorted. Dean rolled his eyes and went out to the impala.

Ryan heard a knock on the door and she knew it was Dean. She pulled up her hair and sprayed on some perfume before answering the door. Dean stood there holding flowers.

"Oh, you didn't have to bring those." She said.

"Oh… sorry, I've never done this before." He blushed.

"It's ok." She puts the flowers down and grabs his hand. She leads him to her guest room, where she sees clients. It's a nice room with black checkered bed sheets.

"Where are the nipple clamps and chains?" Dean asks and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Sterilized and put away, but within reach, in case you decide you want them." She told him.

"I don't think I will. So how do we start?" Dean asked and took his jacket off, Ryan hung it up.

"I usually start with rules. The only rules I have are; no touching unless I say so, that includes yourself, and use your safeword if you need to." She said, he nodded. "Do you have any rules for me? And what is your safeword?" She asked.

"I don't have any… and Impala I guess." He said. "You look nice by the way, and is that apple pie?" He questioned and sniffed the air, the smell was intoxicating.

"Yeah. I picked this outfit and perfume special for you." She said and played with his hair. "It usually takes me less than five seconds to figure out what a client is into, it took me a few months with you, but I think I know and it's a shared interest." She told him. Dean swallowed hard as she sat down on his lap. He whimpered and she smiled.

"Tell mommy what's wrong." She ordered.

"Whoa… no…. Impala… get off!" He growled. He got up and grabbed his jacket "I think we're done here." Dean huffed.

"Dean relaxes, this whole thing is trial and error, I read you wrong. I'm sorry. Dean, please stay, we can try something else." She said.

"I don't know a lot about this, but I know safeword means full stop. This was a bad idea, goodbye Ryan." Dean spat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Ryan sat down and sighed, curling upon herself. It wasn't the first time she had this reaction from a client, but Dean wasn't a client; he was a friend.

Dean drove back to the bunker, angry. How could Ryan do something like that when she knew how his mom died? Dean walked into the bunker and ran into Sam.

"Back already?" Sam asked and raised an eyebrow. Dean just rolled his eyes and went to his room. He was still stressed out and now he was angry and upset. Days went by and he didn't talk to Ryan even though she kept calling and texting. On the third day, she stopped trying.

Ryan stopped seeing clients, she got rid of all her dominatrix stuff. She felt like a monster for what she did to Dean. She didn't know anything else to do for money so she fell back on taking pictures of herself and selling them. It was something she did for clients, now she just sold them to anyone who would buy.

Months passed by and Dean still hadn't talked to or seen Ryan, at least not in the waking world. He dreamed about her, about that green nightie and apple pie scent. He dreamed about calling her that name he dared not to speak during the day.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One,

Dean met Ryan during a case, one of her customers had died. Ryan was a dominatrix. Dean was definitely interested in her line of work. They became friends. At first, Dean never thought of using her services, he was a top, he didn't want a dom. But on bad days, when he was stressed, he considered it. Some days the idea of having someone else in control sounded relaxing.

Dean went to her house after hours one day. Ryan was still in a leather bustier.

"Wow, that must really get your clients going," Dean said. She chuckled and grabbed her robe.

"Yeah, some of them." She told him.

"So what do you do exactly? Whip them while they get themselves off?" Dean asked.

"If that's what they want. Some clients like to be hurt, some like to be told what to do, and some like to be taken care of." She said. "So why are you here Dean? Surely you didn't come over just to talk shop." She wondered as she sat down next to him.

"I think I want to try it, but I think it might be weird to do it with you since we're friends." He said.

"Dean, domination doesn't have to be sexual. How about a session tomorrow to figure out what you like?" She asked.

"That sounds nice Ryan, but I don't think I can afford your prices." Dean sighed.

"Free of charge, but don't tell anyone." She said. Dean smiled and nodded.

"Thanks."

Dean went back to the bunker, mind reeling about his session with Ryan. What was he going to wear? What was she going to do? What was he going to let her do?

Ryan was thinking similar thoughts, Dean wasn't just another client, he was a friend. She looked through her closet and found a silky green nightie and sheer robe that would match Dean's eyes perfectly. It was soft and she knew he'd like it. She also had some perfume that smelled like apple pie. She was going to make Dean happy and relaxed.

The next day Dean got ready for his session. He put on a pair of jeans and his maroon button-down shirt. He sprayed on a little cologne.

"Where are you headed?" Sam asked.

"I'm going to see Ryan." He told him.

"Ryan? As in the dominatrix?" Sam questioned.

"It's not like that." Dean huffed.

"Sure it's not, wear a condom." Sam snorted. Dean rolled his eyes and went out to the impala.

Ryan heard a knock on the door and she knew it was Dean. She pulled up her hair and sprayed on some perfume before answering the door. Dean stood there holding flowers.

"Oh, you didn't have to bring those." She said.

"Oh… sorry, I've never done this before." He blushed.

"It's ok." She puts the flowers down and grabs his hand. She leads him to her guest room, where she sees clients. It's a nice room with black checkered bed sheets.

"Where are the nipple clamps and chains?" Dean asks and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Sterilized and put away, but within reach, in case you decide you want them." She told him.

"I don't think I will. So how do we start?" Dean asked and took his jacket off, Ryan hung it up.

"I usually start with rules. The only rules I have are; no touching unless I say so, that includes yourself, and use your safeword if you need to." She said, he nodded. "Do you have any rules for me? And what is your safeword?" She asked.

"I don't have any… and Impala I guess." He said. "You look nice by the way, and is that apple pie?" He questioned and sniffed the air, the smell was intoxicating.

"Yeah. I picked this outfit and perfume special for you." She said and played with his hair. "It usually takes me less than five seconds to figure out what a client is into, it took me a few months with you, but I think I know and it's a shared interest." She told him. Dean swallowed hard as she sat down on his lap. He whimpered and she smiled.

"Tell mommy what's wrong." She ordered.

"Whoa… no…. Impala… get off!" He growled. He got up and grabbed his jacket "I think we're done here." Dean huffed.

"Dean relaxes, this whole thing is trial and error, I read you wrong. I'm sorry. Dean, please stay, we can try something else." She said.

"I don't know a lot about this, but I know safeword means full stop. This was a bad idea, goodbye Ryan." Dean spat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Ryan sat down and sighed, curling upon herself. It wasn't the first time she had this reaction from a client, but Dean wasn't a client; he was a friend.

Dean drove back to the bunker, angry. How could Ryan do something like that when she knew how his mom died? Dean walked into the bunker and ran into Sam.

"Back already?" Sam asked and raised an eyebrow. Dean just rolled his eyes and went to his room. He was still stressed out and now he was angry and upset. Days went by and he didn't talk to Ryan even though she kept calling and texting. On the third day, she stopped trying.

Ryan stopped seeing clients, she got rid of all her dominatrix stuff. She felt like a monster for what she did to Dean. She didn't know anything else to do for money so she fell back on taking pictures of herself and selling them. It was something she did for clients, now she just sold them to anyone who would buy.

Months passed by and Dean still hadn't talked to or seen Ryan, at least not in the waking world. He dreamed about her, about that green nightie and apple pie scent. He dreamed about calling her that name he dared not to speak during the day.

Chapter Two,

It had been four months since Dean and Ryan talked. Sam still went to see her.

"Dean, I don't know what happened between you two, but you need to go see Ryan. She stopped seeing clients and she is barely scraping by." Sam told him.

"She stopped seeing clients?" Dean asked.

"She told me that she didn't feel like a good dom anymore," Sam said. "I'm worried about her, She doesn't know how to do anything else. She got a hostess job, but that doesn't pay much. She could lose her house." Sam sighed.

"I'll go see her," Dean told him.

"She gets off at five," Sam said and went to his room.

A little after five Dean went to Ryan's house. He knocked on her door. Ryan answered in her uniform, her hair was messy and Dean was pretty sure her apple pie scent was authentic this time.

"Dean, what are you doing here?" Ryan asked and pushed back her.

"Sam said he was worried about you." He told her.

"If Sam is worried about me then why are you here?" She questioned, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"He asked me to see you." He said.

"So you have to be asked to see me? It's a chore for you?" She huffed.

"Ryan, what you did was messed up!" He spat, months of bubbling anger finally coming to a raging boil.

"I was trying to help you and I apologized. I backed off and let you have your space." She growled.

"You just made things worse. I'm not… things weren't like that with my mom." He said firmly.

"I never said they were. You don't have to have some sick twisted thing with your mom, to have a mommy kink. Most people with a mommy or daddy kinks have it because of the absence of that figure in their life and it doesn't have to be sexual. I'm not a psychologist, but you definitely have mommy issues." She told him.

"Of course I do, she died when I was four. And for you to think you could replace her..." He started.

"I wasn't trying to replace her. I was trying to find a soft form of domination that you would respond to. I think the reason you're so freaked out is that you liked it and that scares you." She interrupted.

Dean sighed and ran his hand over his face. "If it means anything I liked it too, the idea of it at least." She whispered softly.

"You're right, I did like it. I've thought about it a lot. Maybe… maybe if you're not too mad at me, we could try again." He confessed. She grabbed his hand and laced her fingers up with his. She led him into the house and closed the door.

"Go lay down in the guest room, mommy is going to change and then she'll make you feel better." She said and kissed his cheek.

Dean went to the guest room and took off his jacket. He made himself comfortable on the bed but didn't get under the covers, even though checkered quilt was soft and tempting. Ryan walked in a moment later. She had put the green nightie on and let her hair fall over her shoulders. She laid down next to him and brushed her hand over his cheek.

"Now, what does baby boy need?" She asked.

"I don't know," Dean said, too nervous and mesmerized to say anything.

"Ok, mommy is going to help you feel better; if at any point you don't like what mommy is doing, tell me." She instructed. Dean nodded. She slipped his shirt off and gently raked her nails over his sides. Dean closed his eyes as she fell into a rhythm. She leaned down and kissed his lips softly, he smiled and his eyes popped open.

"Is this what you wanted baby boy?" She asked, Dean, nodded.

"You just want to be held, comforted, and looked after by mommy didn't you?" She asked.

"Yes, mommy," Dean said in a voice that wasn't very Dean like. She smiled down at him.

"You look, sleepy baby boy. How about you get some rest and when you wake up we'll make dinner." She suggested. Dean nodded and nuzzled against her stomach.


End file.
